


Cheap Trick

by Tex



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Break Up, Denial, M/M, Reconciliation, trickery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:58:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tex/pseuds/Tex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TITLE: Cheap Trick<br/>RATING: NC-17<br/>SPOILERS: none: 5,244 words<br/>SUMMARY: A ridiculously late entry to sheafrotherdon’s E-Card challenge. Rodney gets what he wants. Sorta.<br/>Thanks to crysothemis and lamardeuse for beta duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheap Trick

Rodney barrels into Sheppard’s quarters without bothering to announce himself. The door is programmed to recognize Rodney’s bio signature and let him in.

He tries not to take advantage, though sometimes its unavoidable. Like the day last month, when the Ancient washing machines went haywire and Sheppard strutted around all day in BDUs that actually fit. Rodney recalls barging in that day. Repeatedly.

But today is a special circumstance. He has a set purpose in coming to Sheppard’s quarters. Everything will be strictly business. 

“Sheppard, you have to help me.” Rodney stumbles a little when he sees Sheppard is propped up in bed with a golf magazine. It’s obvious that he’s freshly showered – he’s barefoot, his hair is a little damp and the room exudes a moist, soapy smell.

Fuck, he’s so hot.

Sheppard sets the magazine aside with a little frown of concern. “What’s up?”

“Woolsey is after me about the annual personnel evaluations. He’s trying to bully me into a meeting so he can go over them with me. One at a time.” Rodney shudders. 

Sheppard raises his eyebrows. “He’s trying to bully you.”

As usual, Sheppard’s words edge along with all the speed of a box turtle and Rodney glares at him. “Yes, that’s what I said. He’s looking for me and I told him you need me for something important. So.” Rodney takes a moment to try and look appealing. “Hide me?”

Sheppard tilts his head for a moment, then leans over to look under his bed. “Nope. Won’t fit under there.”

The sight of Sheppard’s ass in sweat pants gets him off track for a couple of seconds but he recovers and crosses his arms over his chest. “Yes, yes, you’re a very funny Colonel but can we save the stand up for later? You know how fast Woolsey moves and I know he’s going to c --”

Sheppard raises a finger to stop him, then touches his comm. “Yes, Mr. Woolsey. What can I do for you?” John says, grinning at Rodney all the while.

Rodney waves his hands pleadingly, mouthing things like no and please and don’t you dare.

Sheppard looks infuriatingly like he’s about to laugh and ruin it all but he manages to stay cool, which is really not a surprise. “Dr. McKay? Yes, he just walked in. I need his help with something.”

Something important, Rodney emphasizes silently.

“Something important,” Sheppard adds, giving Rodney a nod and a wink and Rodney bounces happily on his heels. Good old Sheppard.

“No, everything’s fine. But it’s important. I’m afraid we might be a while.” Rodney smiles. He’s never had a friend like Sheppard. 

Woolsey apparently buys it because Sheppard signs off and plucks his comm out of his ear, placing it on the bedside table along with his magazine. Rodney sits down near Sheppard’s hip, relief washing through his veins. “Listen, thank you for that. I owe you one. Really, can you think of a more criminal waste of my time than those idiotic evaluations?”

“So what do you want to do?”

“Hmm?” Rodney blinks, the change of direction surprising him.

Sheppard crosses one ankle over the other and without really being conscious of it, Rodney’s eyes follow the movement. At least, he starts to. Somehow, though, his gaze travels up the loose material to the soft bulge between Sheppard’s legs. Rodney’s face warms as soon as he realizes what he’s doing and he tries to look away before Sheppard can see.

“It’s just that you’re here now and you’re going to have to stay here a while so your cover’s not blown and what should we do?” Sheppard’s hot gaze skims over him freely as he speaks. He doesn’t even try to hide it and Rodney knows then he didn’t get away with a thing. Sheppard notices everything.

Rodney swallows and tries not to squeak. Jesus. “Oh. Well. Um, how about some chess? It’s been a while for us.” Rodney grimaces at his choice of words. He won’t go there, they shouldn’t go there. He’s been over this ground. Sheppard always ignores him but still, they shouldn’t go there.

Sheppard makes a face, pursing his lips into a near pucker. Sheppard has such a great mouth -- soft and sexy as hell. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Well, let’s see.” His breath hitches a little when Sheppard shifts onto his side so that soft bulge he’d observed earlier presses lightly into Rodney’s thigh. “Halo?” His voice cracks a little because suddenly, Rodney realizes that the soft bulge isn’t so soft anymore and his own pants aren’t fitting so well, either.

A soft noise of disagreement rumbles in Sheppard’s throat. “I don’t feel like it.” His lids half close over his eyes and he reaches up and scratches his thumbnail over Rodney’s left nipple.

It’s a reliable trigger, that touch, that touch from John and it’s not as if he isn’t half way to a hard on already. 

Rodney grabs John’s hand and holds it against his chest. “John,” he says thickly, at once dizzy and unfocused. “We’ve been over this. I thought we agreed -- ”

John blinks slowly, one corner of his mouth lifted in a scorching tease. “I didn’t agree to anything.” He tips over and rubs his newly shaved cheek against Rodney’s. “Come on, Rodney.” John’s voice is low in his ear, the aural equivalent of heat and sex and rough promise. “Lay down with me.” The words wash over Rodney’s sensitive skin in a blistering rush that makes him shiver.

“No, we can’t,” Rodney whispers, powerless to resist the impulse to push into the warm invitation of John’s body. “You think I want you kicked out of Atlantis?” John’s lips linger against Rodney’s neck and Rodney groans.

John works his hand free from Rodney’s grip and slides it behind Rodney’s head, forcing Rodney close to give him a quick, resolute kiss. Rodney fights the urge to return that kiss, even though his every nerve ending is on fire. If they get caught, if he’s the cause of John being court martialed --

“Come on,” John murmurs, his breath moist and hot. He presses his forehead to Rodney’s, his fingertips scrubbing lightly against Rodney’s scalp. “I just wanna make out a little.”

Rodney laughs weakly, slipping his hand under John’s shirt to palm smooth skin. “Define ‘a little’.”

John pulls back enough that Rodney can see his faint smile. “Until I come.”

John kisses him again, moving his curvy lips slowly, his tongue slick against Rodney’s. And that’s when Rodney knows he’s going to lose this argument. Because this turns Rodney on harder than a naked blonde ever did. He’s only human and there’s no way he can say no to John Sheppard, not in this lifetime, not when there’s only a thin layer of moisture-wicking fabric between Rodney and John’s big cock. 

Rodney has John on his back in a couple of spare moves learned from Ronon. “Uh, yeah, no, that’s not how it works,” Rodney says, settling on top of John’s wiry body and brushing his mouth against John’s pouty lower lip. 

John tilts his hips up, rubbing his erection against Rodney’s. “Knew you’d see it my way,” John says and he sounds smug and turned on but the friction he’s creating feels so amazing Rodney pretends not to notice.

“God, you make me crazy,” Rodney growls against John’s neck, pushing down against John’s wiggling hips. He could come from this; he has before. Like the first time, when John shoved him against the door of his quarters and kissed him. They didn’t even make it to the bed the first time.

John puts both hands on Rodney’s face, holding him there, as if there’s any place else in two galaxies that Rodney would rather be. He presses his mouth against Rodney’s and for a while, the kiss becomes almost unbearably tender, John’s thumbs graze softly against Rodney’s cheeks. Rodney follows his lead, going pliant with lazy pleasure. 

“You think I’m gonna give this up,” John whispers against his lips, “if I don’t have to?”

“John,” Rodney says, his voice aching.

“Shhhhh,” John says and then his kiss is urgent again, full of an impatient hunger that Rodney might find flattering if he weren’t distracted by being so damn turned on. 

He works a hand between them, gives John’s dick a squeeze. John blinks up at him, with deep, unfocused green eyes as Rodney rises to kneel between his thighs. He lifts up obligingly when Rodney pulls his sweat pants and boxers down then completely off. 

Rodney takes in the sight, not bothering to hide the fact that he can’t seem to catch his breath. He pushes John’s shirt up under his arms and rubs his face against the sprinkling of hair on John’s belly. The sound that John makes, a hum of pleasure deep in his throat, is a sweet reward.

But he can’t spend too much time on that because John’s cock is right there, wet at the end, long and hard when he gets it in his hand. Rodney closes his lips around it and sucks on the swollen tip, rubbing his tongue against the underside. John grunts and arches up, then Rodney takes it all, every hot, silky inch. Because maybe he knew how to suck cock before he met John Sheppard but since then, he’s made a focused study of it -- how John likes it, how long it takes to make John come and what noises John makes just before he does.

John tastes good, clean -- like hunger, like heat, like John. Rodney glides his hands over John’s thighs and up his sides, dragging his fingernails lightly over his ribs. John shivers and groans his name, letting go as he always does. It’s pretty much the only time John allows himself to loosen the stringent control he keeps on himself -- when they’re in bed, when they’re alone and within touching distance.   He loves John like this -- straining toward him, his legs spread. Rodney’s cock is throbbing, heavy between his legs and Rodney quickly opens up his pants. And after a second of indecision, he lets John’s cock slide out of his mouth. 

As soon as Rodney starts to get to his feet, John’s head comes up off the pillow. “Rodney,” he says in a low rumble, “get back here.”

Rodney steps out of his pants and yanks off his tee shirt, watching John all the while. Rodney can’t take his eyes off him. “Get that shirt off,” he orders in a rough voice, opening up the top drawer of John’s bedside table and grabbing the lube and one of the condoms that they keep there. “You should be naked.”

Nostrils flaring slightly, John does as Rodney asks then stretches out, his lean golden body wantonly naked, his dog tags sliding off the center of his hairy chest, his cock curving above his belly. Rodney’s hands are shaking with impatience when he rips the condom packet open. 

Rodney gets astride John’s slinky hips and slips the condom on. Then he works a liberal amount of lube between John’s ass cheeks and he doesn’t do it with the usual care.

“I’m trying to accomplish something here,” Rodney says and his voice thick with longing and maybe a little anger. He leans over John, braced on one arm and works one finger into him, making him gasp and squirm. “I’m trying to save your stupid job. I’m trying to be selfless for once but can you let me do that?” He pushes in a second finger with the first, twisting and scissoring, evoking a little startled laugh out of John. “No. You can’t.”

“Yeah, yeah.” John’s eyes are dark with arousal as he wriggles around, trying to maneuver himself down the bed, closer to Rodney’s dick. “You’re a regular Mother Teresa.”

His self-discipline at an end, Rodney points his dick down into the spread of John’s ass and pushes into the blisteringly tight space in one thrust. John hisses sharply.

Rodney stops immediately, panting. “Did I hurt you?”

John wraps his legs around him. “No, keep going.”

He holds himself above John and starts to move. The need to pound into John is present in each long stroke but Rodney holds back. They get to have this so seldom, he’s going to draw it out as long as possible. 

John closes his hands around Rodney’s biceps, head back and eyes closed in an expression of pure bliss and every inch of Rodney’s body tries to surge toward orgasm. He bends down to kiss John, to suck on John’s tongue, slowing everything down until John turns his head to the side with a gasp.

“Rodney, touch me.” There’s a raw urgency in John’s voice and Rodney shakes when he hears it. He reaches between them and just gets John’s dick in his hand before John shoves into Rodney’s grip. Four times and one more and John comes hard, striping his belly and groaning against Rodney’s face.

Rodney doesn’t wait for John to relax beneath him before he gives into the need that’s been hammering at him. He lifts John’s legs over his shoulders and fucks him, with enough force that John has to brace his hands on the wall to keep from getting pushed into it. Rodney lets the sweat drip down his nose and keeps going until his orgasm hits him like a runaway drone.

In the aftermath, Rodney’s vision is foggy, his arms are shaking when he slips the condom off and John is watching him, his eyes half shuttered, his lips curved in a slightly crooked smile.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m talking about,” he says lazily.

Then, he half-heartedly tips to the side and only partially lands on John. “Oh, my God,” he gasps into the pillow. “I can’t believe you.” He glares at John. “You seduced me.”

John grins back at him and stretches, putting his hands behind his head. “You’re welcome.”

“John, we have to talk about this.”

“No, we don’t,” John says with a scowl. “Jeez, you’re totally ruining the afterglow.” John squirms out from under him and stands up. “Come on, we need a shower.”

“John, I was -- can’t you--” Helplessly, Rodney’s eyes follow John before he disappears into the bathroom. When the water comes on, Rodney mutters a few choice words and joins him. 

Usually a shower with John means the continuation of fun time, but today, there’s none of that. John doesn’t look at him beyond little sidewise glances that come with a clenched jaw. He cleans himself up quickly and gets out and Rodney steps under the shower, experiencing a frisson of apprehension despite the comfortable temperature of the water.

He realizes John’s right. He’s wasted a good afterglow. Just a couple of minutes ago, he’d had John’s legs around him and he’d been fucking him into the mattress and now, there’s a knot in his stomach instead of a flood of endorphins. 

But he can’t weaken now. As amazing as the last few months have been, Rodney knows he has to make a stand. He has to make John understand.

Rodney turns off the water and grabs the towel thrown over the shower door. He haphazardly dries off and drapes the towel around his waist before opening the door. And John is standing there in his own towel, water running down his chest hair in a series of alluring rivulets.

“Okay,” John says in a terrible tone of voice. “If you feel that strongly about it, we’ll stop.”

Rodney’s heart drops. He’s so surprised that his feet slip on the floor beneath him and he has to grab onto shower door to balance himself. “Excuse me?” Rodney asks, his voice high and thready.

John winces. “You said no. I should have -- I should have respected that.”

He tightens his grip on his towel. All of a sudden, he wasn’t as sure of himself. “I-I said no? Are you sure? Because I think what I intended was more of a figure of --”

“Rodney, you don’t have to make excuses for me. You’re probably right. This is too dangerous.” He looks down and away. “I’d give us away, sooner or later.”

On some vague plane of awareness, Rodney knows his mouth is open and that he’s staring but try as he might, he can’t do anything about it. John mutters something about getting dressed and leaves Rodney standing there, gasping like a landed trout.

Okay, Rodney thinks to himself, pressing a hand to his forehead. This is good. He’s being reasonable now. I won’t have to worry that he’s going to lose his job. This is a good thing.

But why now? He’s been trying for weeks -- okay, not very hard -- to convince John that they’re taking too big a risk. And now, out of the clear blue, John Sheppard is being reasonable?

By the time he gets moving again, John is tying the drawstring of his sweat pants and Rodney is pissed all over again. 

“What are you up to?” he demands, clutching the towel at his waist.

“Huh?”

Rodney narrows his eyes. “Why the change of heart? You refused to even discuss it and tonight, you said --” John shifts uneasily and Rodney’s face gets warm. “Well, you know what you said. And now, you agree with me? What’s going on?”

John glares at him. “I still don’t want to talk about it. And what’s your problem? Isn’t this what you’ve been bitching at me about?” 

“Well, yes, but --”

John sighs loudly and gives the ceiling a pained glance. “Rodney, you should probably get dressed and go.”

Rodney eyes John’s tanned neck and suffers a ridiculous pang of regret. He’s tried to convince John that they should stop and now that he has, Rodney feels an overwhelming loss. 

Unhappily, Rodney goes over to his pile of clothes and dresses with his back to John. When he turns around, John’s at the door, waiting for him, giving the ancient panel a closer scrutiny than is really necessary.

Before the door opens, Rodney asks, “We’re going to be okay, right? I mean -- teammates, our table in the mess, all that?”

The smile John gives him is not nearly up to its full strength smirkiness. “Of course.”

He tries to smile but his heart isn’t in it. “Oh, well. Good. That’s very -- good.”

As soon as he’s out in the hall and the door is closed, Rodney’s shoulders slump in defeat. He knows he’s being silly but all of a sudden, Rodney feels like he’s the one who’s been dumped.

 

The first day is awful. He sees Sheppard at breakfast and it’s awkward as hell -- they avoid looking at each other and Teyla frowns at them a lot. Rodney has lunch in the lab and at dinner, he doesn’t see Sheppard at all.

But the next day, they have a mission to M34-790 where they run into a patch of trouble, one that requires to Rodney engineer a fuse out of two ancient crystals, an alkaline battery and a Cat-5 cable to get them out of it. They make it back to Atlantis in one piece and Sheppard slaps him on the back and everything is okay again. 

And it continues to be okay until the day Rodney walks into the mess and sees Sheppard sitting with one of the newly arrived geologists, Dr. Marta Morales. She’s a tall, pretty brunette with long, fluffy hair, just the type that Sheppard always seems to fall for. 

He notices them immediately because Sheppard is laughing. Really laughing, right out loud, the way he does so rarely, unless he’s with the Marines telling dirty jokes. Or the way he used to do when Rodney came from behind to beat him at Batman trivia. 

Without making a conscious decision to do so, Rodney freezes in mid-stride and looks i their direction. Sheppard has his pointy elbows on the table and he’s leaning toward Dr. Morales, laughing his big, dirty laugh and appearing to be enjoying the hell out of himself. Dr. Morales smiles back, looking lovely and Rodney gets an uncomfortably heavy feeling in his stomach. 

Someone brushes past him in the line and Rodney gets moving again. Out of habit, he loads up a tray and carries it back to the lab with him where it sits untouched next to his monitor until Radek and Opticon start to pick off it like vultures. 

“Mmmm,” Radek says, loudly sucking Athosian barbecue sauce off his fingers. “What is wrong with you? Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m not hungry,” Rodney mutters darkly, his gaze on a simulation that he’s not really seeing. So, okay. He expected Sheppard to go after someone, that part’s not a surprise. But Rodney hadn’t expected it to happen so fast. It’s been less than a week and already he’s sniffing after some hot, leggy geologist. 

He can’t really blame Sheppard. He knows the guy -- he knows what Sheppard likes and how often he likes it. Beneath that cool exterior is a guy who really likes sex. Rodney’s pretty sure that if their work schedules allowed it, he and Sheppard would have had sex pretty much every day.

Sheppard’s indifferent to having his nipples touched; he doesn’t love it, not like Rodney does. He really gets into blow jobs. He likes to sit up for them, propped up in bed or on the couch in his room. He spreads his legs and puts his hands in Rodney’s hair and thrusts up eagerly like he can’t help himself. 

Sheppard talks during sex -- he says yeah, that’s it and Rodney, his voice low and raspy and the first time Rodney heard it, he nearly came in his pants. Sheppard’s hands have callouses from years of carrying guns and Rodney’s gotten use to the sensation of those callouses grazing over his belly, his arms, the inside of his thighs. And Sheppard’s mouth, Christ, that perfect, sexy mouth --

“ -- such a blbec, a jackass as you say. To hear him talk, it was he who discovered the expansion of the universe. Rodney? Hello. Rodney?”

Slowly, the white noise of Radek’s voice begins to converge until it forms recognizable words again. And since he’s more than capable of multitasking, Rodney answers him with a very vivid image of John Sheppard’s greenish eyes, looking up at him while he sucks Rodney’s dick.  
 “What is it?”

“You aren’t even listening to me.”

“I never listen to you,” Rodney says absently, shifting on the lab stool to accommodate his growing erection. He rests his chin in one hand and broodingly wonders where Sheppard is now. He conjures a vision of Sheppard and Dr. Morales on Sheppard’s bed, making out, their long limbs tangled. 

Rodney can’t deny they’d be hot together. He also can’t deny the jealousy that the idea triggers inside him.

The next couple of days pass in a haze of misery. Every time Rodney turns a corner, he sees Sheppard and Dr. Morales -- in the reading room, loitering outside the lab, joining Ronon for a run, for God’s sake. He stays late at work, until he can’t keep his eyes open any longer. 

~*~*~*~*~*

Christ, it’s good, so good. Rodney arches up off the bed into slick, wet heat. He puts his feet flat on the mattress and rocks his hips, every slide of skin against skin pulls him closer to the edge. Sheppard’s thumb rubs against Rodney’s hipbone while his lips, those gorgeous, curvy lips drag up and down his dick. 

Fuck, he’s so close. He’s so turned on, Rodney’s sure he’s going to come, not just from his cock but from his fingertips and his toes and everything in between.

He’s waited so long for this, wanted it so much. He has to see, he needs to see everything. Rodney lifts up off the pillow and looks down. He meets Sheppard’s wide gaze, sees him grin around his cock and Rodney gasps, his orgasm pouring out of him -- 

Rodney wakes up then, hot, sticky and achingly alone. He lies there in the dark, panting, surprisingly miserable for someone who has just had a wet dream. And it’s then, with his uncomfortably wet boxers stuck to him, that he admits defeat. 

He cleans himself up, dresses and goes to Sheppard’s quarters, banging on the door until it slides open to reveal the man himself, fully dressed down to his boots, with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.

“Rodney? What the hell?” Sheppard squawks as Rodney barges past him.

“Thank you, Colonel. Thank you so much for turning me into a 15 year old again.”

Sheppard’s eyes narrow. “‘Scuse me?” he asks, settling the toothbrush over to one side. 

“I just had a wet dream. For the first time in probably years.”

Sheppard puts the toothbrush on the bedside table and grins. “Congratulations, buddy. Way to go.”

“Stop talking. We have things to settle.” Rodney tries to stay on target but the long column of John’s tanned neck is wildly distracting. 

“Such as?” John asks with a maddening tilt to his head.

“Two things. First and most importantly, this little -- thing you’ve got going with Dr. Morales is done. Finished.” 

“Oh, really.”

“Yes.” Rodney pauses mid-rant to do a double take because John looks surprisingly not-angry. Or even annoyed. “That’s right. And the other thing.” He clears his throat. “It’s occurred to me that -- it’s possible that I was --” Christ, there had to be another way to do this. And then, it comes to him. “After careful consideration, I’ve decided that you were not entirely wrong.”

Rodney flushes when the smirk on Sheppard’s face comes into full bloom. “Can you narrow that down a bit? I’m right about so many things.”

He draws a deep breath to refute that, to lay into Sheppard for torturing him with some random lesser scientist, for making him want so deeply when he never really did before. Then Sheppard’s expression transforms into something warm and affectionate and with a hand on the back of Rodney’s neck, he pulls him in for a slow and thorough kiss.

Rodney makes a little sound of relief and arousal and slides both arms around John’s wonderfully long torso, holding him and kissing him back.

Softly, John kisses a hot path down Rodney’s neck. “About damn time,” he says when he passes Rodney’s ear.

Rodney has his hand down the back of John’s pants so it doesn’t register right away. “What?” Rodney pulls back from John’s warmly seeking mouth. “Did you say -- no, you didn’t.”

“I did.”

He pushes John away, outraged beyond belief. “You scammed me?”

“And it worked.”

“I don’t believe this. You seduced me, then you scammed me?”

“Hmmm. I don’t know about scammed, exactly -- more like punked.”

“What’s the difference?” Rodney squawks.

“Scammed is kind of harsh. Punked implies affection and good natured fun.”

“You -- you trickster. You tease.”

Rodney backs up without thinking about where he’s going and he winds up falling backwards onto John’s bed with John following him down. “I knew you didn’t want to stop,” John says with a teasing wiggle that brings his erection firmly against Rodney’s hip. “Selfless really isn’t your style, McKay.”

“I’ll have you know --” John kisses him silent and Rodney loses track of the conversation again. He gives John’s ass a squeeze and wishes like hell that he hadn’t had that wet dream because there’s no way he’s going to get it up again so soon. But this is almost as good, knowing John’s turned on, feeling his chest rising and falling, the fine tension in his body. 

Rodney licks John’s throat. “What about Dr. Morales? You don’t mind breaking her heart?”

“She’ll be fine,” John says, ducking down to give Rodney’s nipple a kiss through his shirt. “She was using me to get to Ronon.”

“What? And you knew?” John’s breath stutters when Rodney reaches between them and slips his hand down the front of John’s baggy pants. He closes snugly around John’s erection and starts to stroke it, long, lazy motions that let his thumb linger over the slick head.

“Nrrgh,” John says and Rodney grins. “Yeah, I -- yeah, Rodney --”

Rodney twists his hand on the upstroke. “So you scammed her, too.”

“A little,” John answers, his words ending on a whine as he pushes harder into Rodney’s grip. 

“Jesus. The ends justify the means with you, don’t they, Sheppard?” He says the words but they’re as empty as a drum. Rodney doesn’t care how it happened. All that matters is that he has John back.

John messily kisses Rodney’s cheek, his jaw. “Why are you still talking?” he asks heatedly. He’s getting close already and Rodney speeds up his hand. He knows what John likes, what he needs and Rodney will give it to him, whatever it is. He’ll do it, not some random scientist, not anyone else.

John’s hips rock down into Rodney’s hand, against Rodney’s hip. He’s in the process of sucking on John’s neck when he hears static in his ear, followed closely by Teyla’s voice.

“Rodney? Are you there?”

Rodney loosens his hold and when John starts to protest, Rodney speaks over him. “Go ahead, Teyla,” Rodney says and John freezes, his expression a play of contrasts -- his face cautious, his eyes hot and full of want.

“You are late for breakfast. Should Ronon and I wait for you?”

Rodney raises his head and gives John’s bottom lip a gentle nip. “No, Teyla. Don’t wait for me.”

“Have you seen John?”

“Yes,” Rodney answers clearly, his gaze holding John’s. “The Colonel is with me. We’re working on something.” John gives him that infuriating smirk and it rouses a completely inappropriate rush of tenderness. “Something important. McKay out.” 

It’s crazy -- he still has John’s dick in his hand but he has to say this, make sure John knows. “John, this is important to me. I wouldn’t want you to think --”

John kisses him with unexpected sweetness. “I don’t,” John says in his raspy voice. “Now. Where were we?”


End file.
